Beaver be Damned
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: This is a little thing that I wrote for Beaver; if Richie Grenadeau had made the threat of going after each of the gang one by one a reality. Character Death! Blood and swearing - you have been warned. I hope you like it! Please review. *JUST ADDED A NEW CHAPTER THAT I WROTE AFTER THIS AND THOUGHT THAT I HAD POSTED. ENJOY!*
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: if you haven't watched the movie DREAMCATCHER or read the book by Stephan King that you have missed out! This one AU one-shot is what could have happened to Beaver if Richie Grenadeau and Duncan and Scott made their threat a promise. **

**Beaver Be Damned**

_"Gonna see you fella's again," Richie Grenadeau says. "One by one or all together."_

It had been about two months since the day they had saved Duddits and they had all by forgotten Richie Grenadeau's threat. Plus, the fact that neither of them had seen hide or hair of those big boys. They had walked Duddits to and from school, played at his house and every where else since that day, so today was just like any other.

They were going over to Duddits and they usually went together as a group, they went everywhere as a group; Henry, Jonsey, Pete and the Beav. But not today.

Henry, Jonsey and Pete had went ahead of the Beav because he had to stay behind and help his mother with the groceries. And, just like the fourteen year-old he was, he complained under his breath, the toothpick in the corner of the Beav's mouth bouncing along.

When the last bag was finally empty, the Beav was free to go and he didn't waist a second. He was out the, the many zippers on hi jacket jingling before his mother had time to ask anything more. It would take about thirty minutes to get to Duds place, but the Beav knew that if he cut across the park, he would be at Duddits in half that time.

The sun was high in the sky, though the Beav wasn't hot at all. He could wear his jacket in any whether, including summer heat and the winters wind. He would wear his Fonzie jacket till it was worn into tatters, and maybe even then he'd still wear it. Beaver loved this jacket, even if it was his brothers before his; it was a part him as much as the tooth picks he chewed and his black rimed glasses.

The Beav's old tennis shoes finally hit the soft lush grass of the park and he knew he was almost there. The park was unusually empty for a Saturday; usually there was a group of boy throwing a football, girls laying in the grass. But all there was were an old guy sitting on the bench, a few kids in a small group smoking, a couple holding hands - and a dog taking a shit.

The Beav didn't mean to, it was just one of those things that you don't want people to see you look at, so you watch out of the corner of your eye instead - like a secret. He watched the dog take a shit. And it was that insignificant bowel movement that caused everything to come back to the day that they had saved Duddits - it flashed through him like a super fast slid show.

Going to Hole in the Wall to see Tina Jean Schlossinger's pussy. Finding a torn shirt and yellow lunch box instead. Hearing that cry that stayed in their heads. Running towards it and finding Duddits, who was naked and beat. Watching as Richie Grenadeau tried to feed him dried dog turd. Than making a deal that they wouldn't tell if Grenadeau left them and Duddits alone.

But it wasn't really those things that made Beaver shiver; it was the little things:

_"Hey, you guys, quit it!" he had shouted. "Just fucking quit it!" - that was what had grabbed Grenadeau's intention, what had started it all._

_Beaver had stood firm when it had looked like a fight would break out, and picked up a few rocks that were the size of eggs, only with jagged edges - and had begun to clunk them together. He had narrowed his eyes and had stared right at Grenadeau; the toothpick in his mouth had jittered aggressively up and down._

_"Come on, dick-weed," Beaver had said; drawing more attention to himself when they had gotten ready for Pete to run. "I'm gonna break your nose again. What kind of chicken-shit quits off the football team cause of a broken nose, anyhow?" _

_After they had come to the agreement Grenadeau had turned back to them at the corner and gave them one on final look. "Gonna see you fella's again." Grenadeau said. "One by one," his gaze pierced Beaver. "Or, all together."_

The Beav shook the thoughts away as he entered a clump of trees; there was no way he would comply with that threat, right? Beaver whipped around as he heard the dry leaves crunch. His heart was beating erratically and the little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was no way that Grenadeau could be here at this very moment.

He hadn't seen Grenadeau for two months, so how could he be here at the very moment that Beaver was alone? Once, when he had just been flipping through the channels, he came across a nature show - a lion stalking gazelles. Watching. Waitng for just one to wander from the herd before it pounced. That had to mean that Grenadeau would have to have been watching them for the past two months and the only reason that he didn't show himself then was because they had always been together. But now, Joe "Beaver" Clarendon was separated from the others.

And that was when Beaver saw him.

"Fuck me Freddy!" the Beav blurted in surprise as Grenadeau seemed to materialized in front of him. He took a step back in shock, the toothpick.

The Beav's head whipped back and forth, looking behind him to see if there were another behind; there weren't, but that didn't help Beaver any - he knew that he could never take on RichieGrenadeau alone. Grenadeau gave him a very cold smile as he took a step towards the Beav. Beaver was frozen to the spot as he watched Grenadeau from behind his black rimmed glasses.

"Hey, Fuck-face," Grenadeau greeted him coolly, a feral smile on his lips.

"Fuck you!" the Beav spat before he turn and fled.

He didn't get very far, but enough the he was at the edge of the clump of trees but far enough that his screams would be muffled. His legs were taken out from under him as Grenadeau tackled him. The Beav should have known that he wouldn't make it that far, but he thought it was his only chance - he had been a fool; Richie Grenadeau was a former football player after all.

As he hit the ground, the Beav's head bounced of the ground, causing the lenses in his glasses to crack as the fell from his face. He gasped as Grenadeau roughly flipped him over onto his back and sat on his chest, pinning the Beav's arms with his knees. The Beav glared up at the blurry Grenadeau above him as he struggled feebly to escape. It was useless the Beave only being five foot four and Grenadeau being six feet and have a hundred pound on the Beav.

Grenadeau looked down at the Beav, a sneer on the lips. "Today is the day you're gonna die, Fuck-face." he didn't yell it or even said and that was much worst to the Beav, because Grenadeau leaned and whispered it in his ears.

The Beav might have pissed his pants then and there if he hadn't taken a leak before he left his house. The Beav struggled with renewed energy, his arms were thoroughly pinned but he kicked his legs. He couldn't really do much damage, but he felt his knees connect hard enough with Grenadeau's back to bruise. The Beav couldn't help but smile as he brought his knee back down to do it again, but he didn't get very far. Grenadeau took one look at his face and socked him right in the face.

The Beav's head flung to the side, the smile wiped from his face as the side of his jaw throbbed. The Beav's discomfort made Grenadeau smile even wider. It turned to a sneer as the Beav turned back to face him.

"Go fuck your mother and die, you pussy!" the Beav lifted his head as far as he could from the ground and spat right in Grenadeau's face.

The Beav held his breath as Grenadeau sat back and slowly wiped the Beav's spit from his face; vaguely, the Beav notice that Grenadeau's nose had healed. Grenadeau wiped the Beav spit on his hand on the sleeve of his many zippers, biker jacket. The Beav sneered at him, but he never saw the fist coming straight for him face.

And it hurt like a mother-fucker!

"Oh, no, I think I'll fuck your mother instead." Grenadeau punched him again. "And then I'll kill your faggey little friends one by one after you." punch. "First the blond," punch. "Then the red-head and brunette." punch. "And lastly, I fuck up the retard so much, he'll wish he died along with you and your fags instead!" punch, punch, punch!

The Beav's head felt like it was going to explode, that was if Grenadeau didn't crush it first. It hadn't been right fist, left fist, right fist; it had been, Beaver thought that that would have been better. But instead it was right fist, right fist, right fist; nine punches in total. The whole right side of the Beav's face was just a pulp; his right eye was sealed shut, bruised and swollen. His eyebrow was cut as well as his cheek was cut, bruised and bleeding. His nose was broken in multiple places and was bleeding like a faucet. His lips were shredded and bleeding, his teeth were red and there was blood coming from the corner of his mouth because he had bitten his tongue and cheeks. The Beav groaned in pain as he shook his head back and forth, he was finding it hard to breath with the fat ass Grenadeau sitting on his chest. He glared at Grenadeau's grinning face through his one good eye, before he spit the blood that had collected in his mouth once again in Grenadeau's face.

And this was the thing that had scared the Beav the most so far. As the Beav's blood splattered on his face, Grenadeau had done the reasonable thing, he had closed his eyes and his head jerked back a little. But when he opened his eyes again and looked down at the Beav with his face covered in blood, his eye looked black, hollow, dead. All of it, like he had no soul - possibly having just made a deal with the devil. The Beav tried to brace himself for another punching bag session.

By that wasn't what happened.

Instead, Grenadeau pushed himself off of the Beav's chest and stood up, with his head down he took a couple of step away. Beav was to shocked to move and he regretted that a few seconds later. Grenadeau lifted his head towards the sky that was blocked of by the canopy above before he suddenly swung around and laid a hard kick into the Beav's side. Beav, yelped in surprise and pain as he rolled with the kick; he knew almost instantly that Grenadeau had cracked a rib.

Before Beaver could do anything, Grenadeau laid anther kick on, this time on his back as the Beav curled on his side in the fettle position. Kick after kick was laid into him and this time they were spread around: legs, butt, back, head and the hand that the Beav used to try and protect his head. Ribs were being broken and cracked, bones fractured, fingers broken and bruises blooming. When Grenadeau was finally done, Beav was barely conscious. Grenadeau roughly turned Beav back onto his back, his arm falling on the ground. Grenadeau smiled, more to himself than any thing as he look at Beav arm for a second before he lifted his leg into the air and brought his foot down very hard over the Beav fragile bones. The snap was so painful that Beaver's body jerk and he opened his mouth to scream, but that pain was so sharp that nothing but the air from his lung burst out.

Everything went dark as he blacked out. Coming to, Beav heard the faint whisper of a zipper and squished up his face as it was pattered by warm liquid. Grenadeau laughed as he peed on Beaver. By the time he was finished, Beaver's hair and face as well as his zipperful jacket were covered. Beav coughed and retched as the smell of urine went up his nose and down his throat. Grenadeau cackled at this as he tucked himself back in and zipped up again.

"Don't worry," Grenadeau mocked. "Where you're going, you won't be lonely for long because you little group of Fag's are gonna join you soon enough." and he once again drew back his leg before bring in forward and kicked Bearer in the temple with a brutal force.

Beaver`s head jerked to the side and stayed there; his temple was split open and blood was running freely across his face before soaking into the dirt ground. Grenadeau watched Beaver's chest intently for a moment. Watched as it rose and fell before never coming up again. He spit on the Beav's jacket before walking calmly away as if nothing to this content had just happened.


	2. PART 2: Recovery

**_I ORIGINALLY WROTE THIS PART TWO CHAPTER FOR bEAVER bE dAMNED FOR ANYONE WHO WANTED TO SEE bEAVER LIVE AND WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARD IF HE WAS FOUND. I WROTE THIS BACK IN 2012 AND THOUGHT I HAD IT POSTED ALL THIS TIME AND JUST LAST WEEK FOUND OUT THAT WAS NOT IN FACT TRUE. I AM POSTING IT NOW SO I HOPE THAT YOU ALL ENJOY IT!_**

_If you're looking for a happ__y__ ending for 'Beaver be Damned', here you are. But if you want Beaver dead, I suggest that you don't go any further. I do hope to write more for 'Dreamcatcher.' _

**Part 2: RECOVERY**

Beaver was sure that he was dead, but he cracked his eye open to brightness. He tried to breath but something was wrong with his nose, he started to panic but realized that he was in fact breathing, raged breaths through his dried throat. Despite the fact that his nose was fucked up, he could smell the bleach that was in the air, or it smelled close enough and he found that he could taste it in the back of his throat.

He tried to look around, but he knew that he didn't have his glasses, everything was blurry. He was sure he could see blinds covering a window, a closed door with a big window like they had in school. But the bright overhead lights caused his eye to water and made it worse. So he moved his head back and forth, trying to see everything at once and understand. He knew that he would never be a smart as Henry and Jonesy, but he wasn't brain dead, at least he didn't think so. Well, maybe... because this was a pisser of an idea.

It made him dizzy; like he was on a roller coaster that got stuck at the top of the loop and he was now hanging upside done, all the blood in his body rushed from his toes to the top of his head. It was like his head was shoved in the sand and he was constantly in motion. Maybe any other time it would have been fun for the Beav, like when he and the gang rolled down a big hill like idiots and fools.

The Beav needed to steady himself despite the fact that he was sure he was laying horizontal on a lumpy bed. He reached out with both hands; his right one connected to cold metal and he clutched it, there was something that was clasped around his index finger and it clanked against the bar railing; His left hand didn't have as much luck, it was heavy and blocky, and he found that his fore arm up to his elbow was heavier than it should have been. He wasn't able to wrap his hand around it and could only hold the railing with the tips of his fingers.

It took the spunky Beav great effort to lift his head and his arm at the same time, they felt like lead. He was struggling and all he could see was a blob of white wrapped around his arm. He was panting when he finally dropped back down to the bed. It was probably a minute before he tried moving again; he was smart enough not to try and sit up or anything as Jesus-Christ-bananas! as that, not with the way he felt, and he couldn't give a shitter if he was weak because of it. He used his right arm to feel around him and he could feel the thing on his finger pulling as well as the flesh on his elbow. They were restricting his movements and he needed to get them off. It took more effort than it should have to get the thing off his finger, he eventually scrapped it off using the bar. "Fuck me Freddie," he gasped in relief. But now there was a one syllable beep that was constant and it hurt his ears, not helping the way that his head felt.

The Beav was about to try and find the source when the door with the window burst open with enough force to bang against the wall as at least three people, all in different colours, rushed into the room like a stampede, one of them shoving a chart in front. The Beaver let out a shriek of surprise at the sudden action and in the back of the teen's mind he was glad no one he knew was here to hear it because it sounded suspiciously like a girl. But that was the problem right now. His eyes darted between the three people that were suddenly frozen out of action.

The older man with the white coat and green pyjamas underneath had a relieved smile on his gray bearded face as he stepped up to the side of the Beav's bed. "Joe?" his voice friendly, but the Beav still had his suspicions. "My name is Dr. Pierce." The Hospital; that made sense because he was feeling fuck-a-duck sick. "You're in The Hospital." he pointed out as if he knew Beaver wasn't just in the Math for Living Class, but everything else too. "Can I fix the beeping?" he asked.

Beaver glanced down at his hand, knowing that knocking that thing off was what caused it, and he nodded. Pierce bent over and took the heart monitor finger clamp and put it back on his index finger, the beeping stopped suddenly and that instant silence still left the Beav's ears ringing.

"Okay?" Pierce asked, and the Beav nodded as least as he could. Without looking at the others, the doc waved his hand the two in pink and blue pyjama's left with the cart dragging behind them. The Beav wasn't sure, but he was thinking that that was what doctors used on dead people; the thought didn't make him comfortable. "I'm just going to check you over and then I'll give your parents a call and let them know that you're awake, okay, Joe?"

Beaver nodded once again; no one really called him 'Joe' anymore; not even the teacher, except the principal and his mom. But he decided not to tell the doc this. Pierce flashed a light in his good eye first before he peeled the blackened and swollen eye lid from the Beav's other eye, it left it watering. Then he put the cuff around his upper arm and squeezed that bulb until the cuff was left strangling his arm. But that wasn't the worst of it, and the Beav was kinda scared.

He had multiple gashes on his head that were sealed with stitches, a definite concussion; multiple in fact. His face was covered in bruises, scrapes, and shallow lacerations that extended to his lips and tongue. His right eye were swollen shut and his nose had been broken just like Richie Grenadeau's had been two months before, but this wasn't from an accident, it had been done out of revenge. His arm had been broken in several places, and not cleanly; the docs had to put him under and put it back together with pins before the cast could be put on. He had two cracked ribs, internal bruising, and kidney bruising.

Pierce scribbled on the clip board that was at the foot of the Beav's bed. "Everything checks out, you're doing great, Joe. I'm going to contact your parents now." and he left Beaver's room.

But now that the Beav knew that his parents were coming, and he was now awake and aware, he was starting to panic a little. What was he going to tell his mom? He was all she had after his brother left. Was he going to tell them the truth or was he going to lie? He and the gang had never told their parents about how they had befriended Duddits and about Richie Grenadeau; none of them knew of the threat that big boy said. Were his parents going to get the cops? And what about Henry, Jonesy and Pete?

The Beav looked around him, the room that he was in wasn't very big, but he didn't care about that. He needed one of his toothpicks, he needed it between his teeth. He usually kept a pack in his Fonzie jacket, but that was nowhere in sight. It was his most prized possession and Richie Grenadeau had ruined it. There was nothing else in the room that he could use to replace it. There was no way that he was going to be able to get up, he couldn't even sit up right now. The only thing that he had in his arsenal were his finger nails. He didn't have the energy to hold up his casted arm, so he had to deal with the needle in his elbow and the clasp on his finger. His nails were dirty and ringed with blood- his blood. He forced himself to ignore it because Fuck him Freddy, he needed something or he'd go off on a pisser. It didn't matter that his whole face was throbbing and that the movement of his jaw wasn't helping him feel better.

He'd finished all the fingers that were available to him on his right hand by the time that his parents got to the hospital and he was tempted, despite the way that he felt, to start on his left. But thankfully, his mother distracted him.

"Joe!" Nancy Clarendon cried as she rushed to the bed, her hands hovering over him, trying to find an uninjured spot to clutch at him.

"I'm okay, mom." The Beav told her, finally holding up his right hand; she grabbed it like a life line.

His dad, Lamar Clarendon, was right behind his mother, but not teary-eyed. Beaver didn't expect him to be, Lamar was more of a man's man, not best friends with emotion like his mother. "Glad you're okay, kid." he gave the Beav a pat on the shoulder fallowed by a squeeze. The Beav gave his father a smile as much as he could without reopening the cuts on his lips.

It wasn't long before Dr. Pierce returned, but not before Nancy had lowered the railing on the right side of the bed and set her rump down for the haul, her son's hand still clutched in hers, her eyes wet.

"How is he, doctor?" Nancy asked, her voice wet.

"He's doing better than I originally thought." Pierce had admitted. "He has a broken arm and nose, the former of which that we had to use pins on. He has two cracked ribs, multiple lacerations and head wounds. He also has internal damage, some that had be directed at both of his kidneys. I would like to keep Joe for a few more days to keep an eye on his progress."

"A few more days?" Lamar said.

"Yes!" The Beav's mother glared at her husband. "He's going to stay here as long as he needs to, Lamar, and every penny that it costs is worth it!" Beaver didn't say anything because he knew that his father didn't mean it in that way, and when his mother calmed down, she would too. Nancy looked at the doctor. "I'm sorry," she told him.

"It's alright," Pierce gave them a small smile before he left them, closing the door.

"The police?" Nancy asked her husband, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

"I called them before we left," he told her.

"The police?" The Beav demanded, finally speaking up. "What?"

"Honey, what happened to you was not an accident, and whoever did this is not going to hurt you anymore." Nancy told her son gently.

"You can't be afraid of this, Beaver." Lamar told him in a stern voice.

"I-I wanna talk to my friends first." the Beav protested.

"Your friends can visit you later," his mother told him, "you need to rest."

"Mom!"

"I said no, Joe." her voice was hard, and he was quiet. "When the police arrive, you're going to tell them what happened. Then you're going to rest. Your little friends can visit tomorrow if need be."

Beaver's lips were tight after that. He supposed that it was better this way. If Richie wasn't taken care of, Henry, Jonesy and Pete would be in danger. It's not like when they saved Duddits, that they did anything wrong. There was no reason to protect Richie, not after what he did. A boy who did something like this was deeply disturbed. _Fuckarow, it really sounded like Henry was up in his __noggin__._

When the police officer arrived, the Beav couldn't help the nervousness he felt, and what may have made it worse was that his parents stayed in the room; something to do with the fact that he wasn't 18 yet, bogus. But he told them everything, about Richie with Duddits, the threat, and the part that his friends played... minus all of his Beaver-isms obviously.

His mother was angry with him for a second that he never told her any of this, but it soon wore off because she was afraid for him and wanted that other boy put in jail. The cop left after taking his statement and his mother ordered him to rest after the Beav made one last plea to see his friends, but he didn't mind closing his eyes and falling asleep, he was haggard even though he barely did a thing these last few hours.

The Beav slept just fine while his parents were in the room, but after he felt the kiss that his mother left on his cheek before her and his father left. After that, Richie Grenadeau took over his dreams and it wasn't good.

He first relived the day that the four of them ran into Duddits while at the Tracker Brothers old freight and storage building, but this time they weren't able to stop Richie. Duddits ate the dog-turd and choked on it. Pete went to run, but he miss-stepped, twisted his ankle and fell to the ground with a pained grunt. Duncan and Scott swarmed him like bees; when they were done, blood covered the ground and Pete was not longer moving. Henry and Jonesy were yelling, grabbing onto each other and they tried to dodge around the two football players with no luck. They met the same fate as Pete. Then all at once, as if they were controlled by strings, Richie, Duncan, and Scott all turned to the Beav. The Beav who was frozen, unable to move with all of his friends' dead bodies scattered around him like dead flies. His breath was hard to come, his nose was working like doodlyfuck. His vision was blurry, his glasses were gone. Then everything went sideways, as his whole body seemed to go vertical. He hurt, oh God, everywhere! He was struggling, but he couldn't go anywhere. Then he heard the whisper as a trio of trouser zippers where tugged down. Then it was like he was laying down in the tub while the showerhead was on- almost. It was like an unending shower of urine, and there was nothing he could do to stop it as it soaked his hair, ran into his ears, stung his eyes, burned down his nostrils, and choked down his throat.

The Beav gasped awake with a cry of fear. He jerked upward, his back arching, and this time it was a cry of pain. Despite the fact that he could barely move because of the binding that wrapped around his chest under the gown it still hurt. His hair was wet and so was his face, his scabbed lacerations stung with it. The Beav's hand was shaking as he reached to his face and wiped the wetness. He smelt it and breathed a sigh of relief; it wasn't Richie's urine, it was his own tears. He was crying and he couldn't seem to stop. It was hard with his nose, despite being broken it was getting snotty, and _that_ was making it difficult to breath.

The Beav was wheezing but had finally stopped crying, it was hard on his face and worse on his ribs. It had made him exhausted and his eye kept fluttering shut, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. He knew that he wouldn't be cutting anywhere anymore and probably sleep either; not as long as Richie Grenadeau was running around up there like he owned the place.

It was dark, the only light leaked through the window in the door and he watched that change; dozing in and out until it was morning. The nurse checked in on him first thing, then they gave him a tray of hospital food- he wasn't very hungry. His parents came as early as they were allowed; his father couldn't stay that long because had to go to work, but his mother had all the time in the world, it seemed- which was not good news to the Beav. He didn't want his mom, he wanted his best buds.

It was the afternoon by the time that Nancy finally left, she had do some shopping again and promised that she would be back in a few hours. The Beav took this opportunity to finally see his friends. There was a phone in his room, but he had to do some stretching in order to get it. It was worth it though, getting tangled in leads, fumbling with his casted arm. But he got it!

But now that he had it, the Beav didn't know who he should call first. Not Pete. Probably Henry, right? He was basically the leader. Yeah. Hopefully the cops had dealt with Richie by now. The Beav dialled Henry Devlin's number and held the receiver to his ear as it rang.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Devlin? This is Joe, is Henry there?"

"Sorry, Joe. He's out with his friends."

"Okay. Thanks," The Beav was quick to hang up. He was sure that they would be at Henry's. Did they... did they even know about what happened to him? The Beav took a breath and picked it up again, this time putting in Jonesy's number.

"Yeah?"

"Mr. Jones? Is Jonesy there?"

"Sorry, kid. He's out."

The Beav clicked off before he pounded in Pete's number, they had to be there. But it rang and it rang. No one was there. The phone was heavy when he put it down. He tried not to panic; there was still Duddits. Roberta Cavell would answer, he knew that that gorgeous woman would.

"Hello?" Alfie Cavell answer.

"Mr. Cavell, it's Beaver."

"Oh, sorry, guy. Doug is out with Roberta."

"Oh... okay."

So where in the fuckarow were they? The Beav was sure that he would know, would feel it if one of them dickweeds bit the bag, was sure of it. But despite that, it took him a while to calm down. That only being accomplished when he felt the sharp pain of his full bladder; he had to take a long needed piss.

It took longer than the Beav realized to get out of the bed. He basically had half a hand to him, and just getting the railing down was a fight. He tried kicking at it in his frustration and twinged his ribs in the process, letting out a whimper of pain. "Bite my bag!" The Beav told the metal, whacking it with his casted arm, sending a shock through his bones. He held his arm to his chest, his eyes wet. He just wanted to take a piss, was that so hard to ask? He tried again after he took the clamp from his finger, and this time there was no death beep. He breathed deep because now he had a whole hand to work with, despite the needle it his elbow.

The Beav twisted around until his bare legs hung over the side of the bed, before he slid forward and feet touched ice cold tile. He sucked in a breath but kept his feet planted as he wiggled his toes and pushed off. His open gown billowed around his small naked body as he grabbed onto the rod that held the clear bag of his painkillers.

The Beav patted across the floor, grabbing his glasses from beside the phone and slipped them on his face as he went to the small bathroom that was at the corner of his room. It didn't even have a real door on it, just one of the folded plastic ones, and it took some figuring to get the rack into the small room with it; the door was stuck, it only closed a quarter of the way so he just left it. The Beav tried not to look into the mirror, but to get to the john he had to go passed it. He was quick to look away though; his was covered in scabs, the whole middle of his face was taped up, swollen and angry looking, his right eye was swollen and bruised, his other one black, the skin was no longer tan but an assortment of bruises, and his head was wrapped in bandages. He had no intention of finding out what the rest of him looked like, but he had to in order to take a piss.

The Beav gathered up the gown and tucked it up under his chin so that it wasn't in the way and now he might as well not be wearing anything at all. He could see that bandage that was wrapped around his chest and the coloured bruises that escaped from underneath it. The Beav closed his eyes from a moment before he took hold of his prick and aimed it at the toilet; it was a little hard with his cast.

The Beav knew that he had to piss, but he couldn't seem to go. Had he grown to fear urine because of what happened with that Richie bastard? No one was afraid of piss, _the Beav wasn't afraid of piss!_ The Beav ground his teeth hard as he pushed. "Stop being a pussy, you bag!" he growled at his prick. He was sure that his teeth were gonna darn right break, but finally a yellow stream left his tip and the Beav sighed in relief.

The Beav was nearly done. But he was sure he heard someone in his room. "Hello?" The Beav called out as his stream paused, but there was no answer as he gazed in the direction of the door. He let out a breath and his stream continued for ten seconds longer. And now, this was the most comfortable he felt since he woke up in this place; he gave his prick a shake.

"_BEAV!"_ was a chorus of three at the door behind him, and the Beav gave a scream as he jumped back against the wall, his gown falling back around him.

The Beav looked and found Pete, Henry and Jonesy crowding the doorway, the biggest grins on their lips.

"What the fuckarow are you guys doing here?" The Beav demanded with heat as he stomped towards them, the three backed away. The Beav continued forward, at the moment forgetting to flush and about his hands.

The grins dropped from Henry, Pete and Jonesy's faces.

"We thought that you'd be happy to see us, foolish." Henry said.

"I am, fuckwad!" Beaver agreed.

"Okay..." Jonesy prodded with confusion.

_God;_ the Beav couldn't believe how doodlyfuck these guys were being, Grenadeau was out there- Richie Grenadeau! "Don't you get it?" the Beav demanded. Their expressions said that they clearly didn't. "Richie!" he shrieked. "He's a psychopath, and you chum the streets? Look what he did to me!"

"Beav..." Henry's voice was soft, not with pity, but with care, Jonesy and Pete carried similar expressions; like they knew something the Beav clearly didn't. Henry put a hand on the Beav's narrow shoulder.

"What?" The Beav demanded, desperate, taking everything from that hand.

"The cops came to our houses and we told them everything. When out parents found out, they didn't let us out, but today, like an hour ago, they arrested Richie." Jonesy told him proudly.

"Whuh?" was all the Beav could come up with.

"Apparently they talked to Duncan and that Scotty kid, they spilled like a carton of milk." Pete filled in, a satisfied smirk on his face; _he knew that those two were __pussies__._

"He's gone?" Beav asked, breathless.

"He's gone," Henry repeated for him, knowing that was what his best friend needed.

Now this was the best moment that he felt for two months, no more Richie Grenadeau to haunt his dreams and his life. He wanted to cry, and was pretty sure that he was; his glasses fogging up. Henry, Pete and Jonesy crowded in for a group hug. Henry and Jonesy connected their foreheads with the Beav's, while Pete's chin found its way to the back of his shoulder.

"You naked under here?" Pete smirked as he looked down and found that the Beav's gown was open.

"What?" the Beav asked, his voice watery. He tried to move, but three sets of arms were holding him in place. And then he saw the set of smirks on Henry and Jonesy and dread came over him.

"If I'd known you were hiding this Josephine, I would have taken action a lot sooner!" Pete gave the Beav's ass a hardly slap, grab and jiggle.

The Beav let out a squawk, struggling free from his best friends' hold as they burst into laugher, holding their stomachs with it.

"You guys are freaks!" The Beav yelled at them, rushing to close the back of his gown, but he found himself smiling even after being violated. Because this was normal; Pete being a pervert. He'd done this to everyone of them at one point or another; and they'd each got chicks names for their troubles: The Beav was Josephine; Jonesy was the beautiful Gariella, and Henry was rightfully named Henrietta.

"Don't count yourself short." Jonesy grinned and the three of them swooped in again like a mob. The Beav took the hugging and the back patting, despite the pain because they were all freaks, and now they didn't have to worry about Richie Grenadeau.

**fini**

_I'm not sure if I put enough Beaver-sass, but I hope you found this fic comforting. I apologize for my fuck up. Please review. __Love to hear your thoughts!__!_


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